Onnashitsuji
by Creatoriginsane
Summary: "What do you want?" I have long awaited that question, "I want, I want...I want perfection." - It was contracted by want, and bounded for life, hearing her say; "Yes, your Majesty." REVISION UPDATE 05/23/12
1. The soul, tainted

Onnashitsuji

A/N: Yes, well, here we go my faithful—err, maybe not so—readers. The full-on Kuroshitsuji story! Onnashitsuji!

Disclaimer: You and I both know that I do no own Kuroshitsuji—I only own the OCs.

Warnings: OCs, possible OoC-ness and cliché-ness, some language, sexual implications, violence

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><p><strong>Onnashitsuji<strong>

**One: The soul, tainted**

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><p><em>It was a hard life; a very, very, very hard life; reality was much worse than what I could've imagined it would be. Even my dreams—not, they're not dreams, they are nightmares. Dreams in this sort of world don't exist anymore. <em>

_Well, you all may think I'm crazy because this is England. This is London, the primer of European trades this century, the greatest monarchy ever created, the best, most hospitable, most educated, most loving people on this planet. _

_Wait, most loving? Most loving? People are harsh! One wrong move, one wrong word—even one wrong breath, will cost you your reputation; your parent's and your family's reputation. And they say that all people make mistakes, well they never told me about how your mistakes will either make or break you into becoming into who you are. _

_That is harsh, so what if I want to run around in the fields? So what if I want to jump into piles of autumn leaves? So what if my hobbies are archery and horseback riding? I am who I am, and there is nothing you can do about it. Absolutely nothing. _

_But what I don't understand is that why are women supposed to be locked inside their mansions while men go outside all day? Playing polo, riding horses, hunting for game—it's not fair. I wouldn't want to read all of those romance novels in the library; they simply bore me to death. I wouldn't bother taking etiquette classes if I'm always told to sit down and be quiet and parties. And even dance lessons, I'll just follow the man's lead as always. _

_As usual. _

_I'm shut down form the world. _

_Being taught to be perfect and all. . . _

_Why won't the world be perfect for me? _

_Why? Why? Why? _

_Because of one reason; _

"_**Brat." **_

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><p><em>Thunderstorm. <em>

_Lightning strikes. _

_Thunder echoes. _

_Heavy rain pours. _

The night, it was straight out my nightmares.

I don't know why am I out this late, walking in the dark hallway, alone. I've never felt like this before—so vulnerable, so cold, so afraid, so _alone_. . .

_Thunder clap. _

I jolted, gasping instead of screaming, the storm always frightening me.

_Are you afraid? _

Somewhere back in my mind, I asked myself. Am I afraid? The storm couldn't hurt me, the lightning couldn't kill me; I'm protected, protected by this structure, protected by—

_By my parents. _

It all came back like the lighting in the storm; I was always protected, always surrounded by brick walls so that no one can hear me, always, always being kept away by my parents. Why couldn't they just see that I am fully capable of making them proud as any English daughter has made their parents proud?

_No. _

Always no, always no, it's always the same thing! No, no, no, no! Why couldn't they understand? Is it because I'd rather run around the gardens chasing butterflies and rabbits, rather than stay inside a room sewing and reading romance novels? Is that it? Or is it just that they couldn't accept me for who I am? Or they would just want to live the perfect life, by forcing people around them to be perfect to? Forcing their only child to be perfect. . .

_Perfect. _

Why can't I be perfect? Why can't this world be _my_ world?

Maybe I'm just selfish that's all. . .

_Thunder clap, candles burning out. _

This time I screamed. The thunder was louder, the rain poured down harder, and all I see is darkness all around me.

_Are you afraid? _

Echoed. . . Now I know that it wasn't me. The air growing colder and colder by the second, I shuddered.

_Are you afraid? _

There was it again. This—this is just some nightmare right? I—I just need to wake up. . .

_Do you fear the dark? The storm? _

Again, it—it was growing louder—c-closer! I need to run, I need to get away! Wake up! Wake up!

_What are you afraid of? _

I was lost, I just ran, this was a nightmare, I'll wake up soon enough, to see the light, the see the sun and away from this dark, dark nightmare.

_The darkness, it welcomes you. . . _

It—it was right behind me, hot air on my neck, almost as if, as if I was to—

I screamed, there was something, something was there!

_Lightning flash, thunder clap. _

Run away! Run away! Run away! As fast I could, far away from this nightmare, far away—

_Wh-where are you? Who are you? What are you!_

Why won't I wake up?

_Where am I? I am everywhere. . . _

I stopped, it was behind me; the voice cold like ice, piercing like knives—

_G-get back! Stay away from me! _

Run faster! Run farther! Why? Wake up, wake up!

_Who am I, what am I you ask. . . _

Chuckle, it's—it's all around me, where is it?

_Lighting flash—_

I widened my eyes, in front of me, was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my life. . . Blood red, snake-like eyes emerging from the darkness. . .

–_Thunder clap. _

_Get away from me! Get away! Get away!_ I ran from it, the monster; I'll wake up soon enough. . .

I tripped—No! It was—it was, it dragged me down on the floor!

I screamed, tears now streaming down my eyes—it was terrifying; blood red eyes, silver fangs, claws digging into my arms, hot air burning my face. . .

_What am I? _

Chuckle, dark, horrifying, something more frightening than all my nightmares combined.

_I am a demon. _

Demons. They always said that a demon is the carrier of the Devil, I always went to Church, and my faith is as clear as glass—_Faith as clear as glass, and as easily broken as well. . ._

_What do you long for the most? What do you __**want?**_

I have long awaited that question. . . What do I want? What do I want? I want. . . the perfect life. I want perfection. I want everything. . .

_What do you want, your Majesty?_

The demon said it in such a temptingly sinful tone. . . I wanted it, the tears nearly gone now.

_I want. . . I want—_

There was this cold, cold, cold feeling on my right palm. And that feeling of sin, that guilt, but that's all gone the window now; I want—

—_Perfection. _

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><p>AN: This ain't the end! :) I think I wanna cry now, I used 2 hours on this, LOL. Read and review please! Tell me if it sucks or not, and maybe even some plot ideas? :D Thanks! Will update once I've got a good amount of reviews!


	2. The soul, contracted

Onnashitsuji

A/N: No one's reading? Haha, finally had the right mind to update... LOL.

Disclaimer: You and I both know that I do no own Kuroshitsuji—I only own the OCs.

Warnings: OCs, possible OoC-ness and cliché-ness, some language, sexual implications, violence

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><p><strong>Onnashitsuji<strong>

**Two: The soul, contracted**

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><p>"—<em>Perfection." <em>

Darkness. . .

"_Am I—Am I dead?" _

"_**You aren't, but your faith is."**_

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><p>I shot up, gasping for air. . . <em>I was—I was alive!<em>

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting for air, and looking around my room as I sat upright in bed—everything was in order, nothing out of the place, nothing out of the ordinary. So it was all just one big nightmare, like every night—

"I see you are awake, your Majesty."

—in the past.

Her voice was velvety; somehow loving and caring, as she emerged from behind the heavy pink, yellow-embroidered curtains, opening them at the same time, letting the sunlight fill the dim room into a flush of vibrant color.

"I am," I yawned, stretching my arms and back, "Teresa."

"This morning's breakfast is—" And almost at that instant there was this mouth-watering scent filling the room, chocolate perhaps? Or maybe raspberry? Cheese?

"—Raspberry scones with strawberries, cinnamon dusted chocolate pancakes, poached eggs with cheese on toast, Forest Berry tea, and apricot preserves."

Nearly the same as always and yet she never ceases to amaze me. She sets a silver food tray on my reading desk, pulling out the desk chair; she motions me to sit down.

I stop, "Is anything the matter, your Majesty?" She asked with the all-too clam tone in her voice.

_Why did I stop?_ "N-nothing, you shouldn't be troubled. . ." I slid from atop the bed, and sat onto the desk chair, which was surprisingly close.

"Today's agenda if I may," She said, as I inhaled the sweet scent of the tea.

"It seems you only have one agenda today," She cleared her throat, recovering an envelope from her breast pocket, "We have been invited by Miss Elizabeth Middleford and—"

_Wait, Middleford? Lizzy! _

"Lizzy!" I nearly coughed out the tea, but luckily not.

"Yes," She cleared her throat—killjoy, emotionless her. "—and Earl Phantomhive to the earl's manor. It seems they have heard about your recent arrival from Italy—"

_Phantomhive. . . Ciel! _

"Shall I prepare the—" I cut her off,

"Get going Teresa! I wouldn't want to be late!" I shouted in shock and excitement.

I started eating fast, good thing my parents wouldn't see me acting in such a 'barbaric' way. "But, your Majesty it's for afternoon tea, and it hasn't been past noon yet."

I sighed at her serious exterior, "Seriously, Teresa, you need to relax. Even the quartet is following your example."

_The quartet, a simple band of siblings consisting of two sister and two brothers who don't talk unless spoken to, and if you do, they'll only utter one to three words. _

"Alright your Majesty. . ." She trailed off, opening the door, "I shall prepare the carriage." And she left.

Honestly Teresa, what you need is either, a vacation, a good cup of Earl Grey, or the adventure of love. Haha, that's funny, I can't even imagine her with anyone, she's too much of a serious, literal-minded, extremely loyal _butler_, she doesn't want to be called maid or maiden.

Anyway, getting back, I can't believe Lizzy and Ciel knew that I came back, so I'm guessing the two cousins have finally formed a truce, eh?

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><p>". . . And yes, they have been notified by outside means of your arrival." I can feel that cringe in her voice. She was wearing a dress I picked out for her.<p>

"So that was it!" I exclaimed, ignoring half of what she said, "So—" I started, eyeing her posture; she had her arms around her chest, in protection probably, "Why are you sitting like that?"

"Your Majesty," She coughed out, making me look at her directly, her eyes showing a feel of discomfort and contempt, "Why must you force me into these garments?"

"What?" I laughed, "Would you rather be naked?"

"Pardon me, but I find these dresses—" She coughed out, "Very uncomfortable, how can women at this age be comfortable when there's that feeling. . ."

"Feeling? What feeling?" I didn't understand, what could she mean by feeling?

"That discomforting feeling when there is air brushing past your legs."

"Nevermind that, Teresa. . ." I rolled my eyes, really can she be _less_ of a woman?

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><p>AN: Am about to rewrite the entire story and will delete this once I've rewritten the first chapter. So, I would really need feedback right about now. . . So please? Review?


	3. The soul, listening

Onnashitsuji

A/N: More reviews this time, maybe?

Disclaimer: You and I both know that I do no own Kuroshitsuji—I only own the OCs.

Warnings: OCs, possible OoC-ness and cliché-ness, some language, sexual implications, violence

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><p><strong>Onnashitsuji<strong>

**Three: The soul, listening**

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><p>"Teresa, do you remember. . ." I prodded, hating the sickening feeling of an awkward silence.<p>

"What, your Majesty?"

"How it was before me? How you were before and—" It was a topic that intrigued me ever-so. "—You know, your past!" To put it simply.

"A rather odd question coming from you," She said, in a way she mocked me, "The answer you wish is rather long and dull. Why do you want to know?"

"A mistress has to know her servant's stories, right?" I smiled at her, "And a long quiet trip would certainly bore me to death. . ."

"I'm afraid, your Majesty, I am not allowed to tell you such stories."

"And why not? The trip would take us an hour and a half to get there!" I was persistent, honestly, why wouldn't she tell me? Is she just like the quartet she brought with her?

She sighed, "If her Majesty wishes, then her Majesty shall hear of my past."

"At last you've finally listened, so tell me in detail, alright?"

"Now where to start? Would you like to hear about the underworld?"

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><p><em>Underworld; Underground; hell to put it simply, was just out of reach to physical bodies and human activity. Despite all beliefs humans had about the under city, not all of them are true. <em>

_True, that there are demons and devils residing in that place. True, that they torture and consume souls who have been sinful in their past life. _

_They are either tortured by burning, drowning, striking, whipping, or just being eaten alive; for no reason, at all. In their physical torture, they would have been humiliated, stripped of their dignity, and greatly emotionally unstable. They cannot kill themselves, unless they are eaten alive. They would be torn apart, limb form limb before, and they aren't dead, they would still feel the pain of that. When they are eaten, they would burn to death in the stomachs of demons. _

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><p>"Gruesome isn't it, your Majesty?" She smirked evilly.<p>

"Very," I held back some "undigested food", "Quite gruesome. . ."

"Would you like me to stop, or would I push further on?"

"G-go on,"

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><p><em>Now another thing about hell far, far different from your beliefs, is that we demons live a rather flashy lifestyle. <em>

_You wouldn't see and rotting corpses and skeletons on the streets; they were kept clean and litter free. You wouldn't see waterfalls or rivers or lakes of blood, nor anything gruesome. Instead you would see perfectly clean, crisp surroundings with gorgeously sculpted ornaments and statues around every building. _

_The only gruesome even occurring every day would be, when fresh souls are sent to us. In the furthest, darkest, and largest part of hell would be the "Fetching Station". There, souls are tortured and consumed almost simultaneously. There, our true forms are unleashed, full powers unlocked, and the fights begin. _

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><p>"So hell is like London?"<p>

"The entire world actually, but in a darker shade. . ."

"And the fights, what is that about?"

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><p><em>Fighting, a rather barbaric and violent way we demons use to overcome our enemies. Mostly fighting is done over the souls, who should consume the largest and most sinful souls. <em>

_Souls power us demons and the greater the amount of souls consumed, the greater the power. A human soul would be enough, but consuming demon souls would give us greater stamina; we would be faster and stronger, our transformations would be seamlessly perfect. _

_We fight with every bit of our entirety; victory would bring us respect, honor, fear; and defeat would either leave us deprived of everything or dead in a stomach. _

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><p>"So, how many have you fought then?"<p>

"From when I was born, I would say about a hundred."

"Losses? Wins?"

"Sixty-one wins, Thirty-eight losses, and _one_ draw." The last phrase was hard; angry and envious.

She continued, not allowing me to ask her a question.

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><p><em>Now demons you ask, are very complex creatures. <em>

_We do not run around in hell killing and taunting others. We do not act like savages, other than when souls are being delivered. _

_We are calm, collected creatures who respect each other—most of the time. Demons, in popular belief, are ruthless, ugly, ill-mannered creatures of the night. No, we are not ruthless, nor ill-mannered, but some really are ugly—we are gentlemen and women. _

_So now, when humans are desperate for help, they would result in summoning one of us. And when doing so, you make a deal with us with your life; a deal with the devil, in popular belief. _

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><p>I ignored the most of what she said after, "So, what about that draw?" I drawled out, smirking at her.<p>

"That draw, I would rather forget about that." She spoke in a harsh tone.

"Oh, come on, it's alright to have someone capable of continuous fighting, isn't it?"

"No, it's not!" She exclaimed, either insulted, angry or both. "In my case, your Majesty, having some competition that would just put a match to a draw is more humiliating than losing!"

"How so? Enlighten me on the subject."

"It feels as if he doubts my prowess, my ability to defeat him!"

'So, it's a _he_?' I thought, smirking at the idea.

"If he thinks he would just lose, then why even fight in the first place?" She had an outburst, one of the very, _very_ few times.

"Is it because he is just all talk? Or is it because he thinks I'm not powerful enough to defeat him? Or even worth enough to fight him?" She was rambling angrily.

I can't help but hold back a laugh, "Really now, Teresa? Is that it?"

"Quite so, your Majesty, quite so." She muttered.

"So tell me, who is he?"

"Someone I'd rather _destroy_ than to remember, or even forget." She said harshly.

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><p>AN: I now have a plot line. I feel like smiling like a maniac. LOL. So if you want to hear more from me and this story, you better review, alright? I'm in near desperation for feedback. Please?


	4. The soul, arriving

Onnashitsuji

A/N: I promised myself I'd update my fics before going off on vacation (finally!).

Disclaimer: You and I both know that I do no own Kuroshitsuji—I only own the OCs.

Warnings: OCs, possible OoC-ness and cliché-ness, some language, sexual implications, violence

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><p><strong>Onnashitsuji<strong>

**Four: The soul, arriving**

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><p>So she hates a certain someone and she isn't telling me who or what that someone is. All I know is that it's a he—a <em>male<em>.

"So tell me," She stopped explaining so I bothered to ask her another question, "how do creatures like you, _reproduce_?" I was curious at that!

She flushed a very embarrassed red, "R-re-reproduce, your Majesty?" She chuckled nervously, "Why ask for such a question?"

"Because I'm curious, and as I've been taught, or as I've read in all those scientific books; reproduction is something all creatures do. Usually for people, they reproduce by—"

"Your Majesty! That's quite a very sensitive subject, even for people your age, you aren't supposed to know of such things."

I hated that statement, I shouldn't know those things just because of my age? "Why? Do you see me like every other girl my age?"

"No, your Majesty." She muttered.

"Good, now what does a Kingsleigh butler follow?"

"To attain your perfect world, shooting down any who prevent it, that is what the Kingsleigh butler follows." I loved hearing that from her, it always feels like I'm going to rule to world.

I am and always will be Alice Kingsleigh. The brat most English noblemen and women know. The girl who would rather be stuck in the library reading such adult material; I mean subjects which aren't fit for a young age—sciences, logistics, history, and not those adult novels. Although sometimes I'd rather go out on the fields, or ride horses, or practice archery rather than to be stuck at home doing nothing.

"Thank you for that, Teresa. You do know that every time I hear that from you or the quartet, I feel like I'm king of the world." I leaned back on the cushioned seats.

"Queen, your Majesty—you're a female." Surely I was, reddish-blonde hair falling into wavy cascades down my back, bright blue eyes looking at her, and a summer-themed dress around me.

"I know, I know. . ." I sighed, "But usually kings ruled over their empires, queens would just be another symbol of their power." From what I've read, that's true enough.

_And with that came silence. . . _

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><p>And then it hit—it stopped, the carriage stopped, so I guess we've finally arrived haven't we?<p>

The door slowly _creaked_ open; I should get Clarence to fix that since he basically fixes everything—and a white-gloved hand appeared on the side, signaling for us to exit the carriage. I placed my hand on top of the gloved one and descended onto the ground. I looked over to the person to thank him, and my gosh that was the most beautiful sight—rather person I've ever seen up to date. Surely he was older by a couple of years, but still the man was gorgeous. He looked so well, neatly kept hair but with a dash of the wild side, and red, dark red eyes that are literally shinning.

It was sight to behold, but—

"Alice! Alice!" I nearly lost my footing when something pink with a high-pitched voice came crashing onto me, it was Lizzy.

"L-Lizzy!" I exclaimed in shock, she never really grew up; she's still that bubbly child from long ago. Bright blonde curls fixed in pigtails, a pink hat-like headdress, and her signature frilled dresses and expensive boots.

"I'm very happy to see you again, Lizzy." I smiled at her as she got herself off of me.

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><p><strong>+View change+<strong>

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><p>As she went out of the carriage, I took the time to change out of this rib-crushing garment and into my usual clothes, a black and blue suit. For beings like us, it was common to be able to change into various attires of the same or opposite sex; I just preferred wearing male suits rather than dresses. I removed the blue feathery hair accessory and replaced it with a black beret. Instead of the dark blue dress, I now wore a dark blue long-sleeved blouse, a pair of black pants, a black vest and black loafers.<p>

I got out of the carriage sent for us ignoring the extended palm, only to receive that eerily familiar scent when I reached the ground. My eyes narrowed as the sc

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><p>ent filled my lungs, it wasn't foul-smelling, but it was familiar—<em>sickeningly<em> familiar.

I squinted my eyes to the left, the figure still had his hand extended, silently asking me to take it—possibly. I ignored him and made my way towards Alice, who was being suffocated by her "friend".

"You wouldn't even pause to show your thanks." A voice came up behind me, I glanced to the right, the figure was there—he was taller than me by an inch or so.

"Miss Alice has already given her thanks, and that is all the thanks you deserve." I walked away, he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Nonetheless, you could have at least provided some gratitude." Was he actually demanding that I thank him? For what?

"And why should I? I need not of any assistance, exiting a carriage is a simple task one can do, and that's the reason why they placed a handle beside the door." I stated.

"You could have taken notice of the other's efforts and thank them for it." He was persistent.

"Well those efforts are unnecessary," I was what peasants would say; pig-headed.

"At least think of their selflessness," He was getting philosophical.

I sighed, shrugging his hand off of my shoulder, "Alright then, thank you—" I walked away, "For your _needless_ effort." I smirked; truly, I was as stubborn as I was loyal to Miss Alice.

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><p>AN: **+screams+ MARY SUE ALERT! MARY SUE ALERT! +relaxes+**

Alright, I've been bugging myself because of those reasons, I'll rewrite the entire situation/s when I get ideas, but for now. . . Any suggestions? Feedback? Critiques? All are very much appreciated.


	5. UPDATE

**Onnashitsuji**

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><p>Dear readers,<p>

Hey guys! It's been forever.. Gladly, I finally have the guts and wills to rewrite Onnashitsuji, but under the title; Onnashisuji: Hell revisited.

It's basically the same, except for some plot changes. I will be using the manga-verse with some elements of the anime-verse. Teresa's redesign is just pretty much her clothes and the consistency of her attitude. Alice will be returning with the "win for father" kind of attitude, but with a few tweaks in her physical appearance (as to what my sister wants for her character). The res of the band will be joined by two (technically two) other characters of mine, which you will find out in the rewrite. There would be some M-rated chapters, either for violence, sex, or both. I hope you appreciate the new style that I'm trying out, something that's dying to be dark and seductive and the rest..

So check my profile for the story, or check the Kuroshtsuji archive for it.

**Onnashitsuji: Hell revisited**

Thank you, and I deeply apologize if you've lost hope in me.

_Sincerely,_

_Creatoriginsane (Organization-15)_


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